Ahriana was twenty six when the world shifted in such a way it could never be righted again. It began with little things,whispers, rumors, strange sightings. Then by spring it grew so large, cracks began to appear, until finally culminating into a scandal that ripped Ahriana's heart to shreds.
Looking back, Ahriana's best friend,Kynzi, being sent out from Imerald was the beginning. The first warning, the tiniest ripple across the lake. No more skinned knees and tear stained face, she was a Princess now, adopted by Kieven just before her wedding to Gellan. Her Aunt, Saima, who had taken Kynzi in all those years ago in hopes that she would somehow raise her station in Imerald, all but threw her back out on the street when she had bonded with a mere armorer assistant. Kieven had stepped in immediately for his daughter's best friend. After his daughter had stood in his private study sobbing and begging dramatically. The problem was, Princess had responsibilities, and Kynzi had reached an age when Kieven decided his investment all those years ago had matured enough to be used. Ahriana could not travel and be a diplomat, her safety was most important to the crown, but an adopted daughter?
Kynzi's transformation from the little lost nomad girl who had somehow befriended the princess, to a Princess in her own right, was astounding. Even Ahriana could be caught staring at her when the sun caught her features, like she was some strange creature descended from the sky. Her hair was the color of wheat in the sunshine and just as light and airy, it flowed down her back and past her waist weightless, glimmering in the light. Her blue eyes glittered like ice, sometimes it felt like a balm to your soul when she stared at Ahriana, waiting for her emotions to boil up and over, only to be soothed by that blue gaze. But she could also cut through you sharp as knives when she was angry, blue eyes seeming to be made of sharped daggers of ice. Something she learned from so many years watching Ahriana's eyes flash and burn before a truly spectacular display.
Kynzi loved easily and with her entire heart. Watching Ahriana suffer had taught her just how strong the power of love was, so she was always trying to balance her sister's destiny. She knew that love could be used as a weapon or a gift, so she tried to be a gift of brightness for Ahriana. Sometimes she found it exhausting, not because her sister was too much for her to handle, but because the sorrow of her journey hurt Kynzi nearly as much as it scarred her sister's heart. She wanted to fix everything, make a new prophecy, force the magic to be kind. No matter how impossible the fantasy was, that was one reason she had agreed to go on this mission for her father. Hopefully the nomads had magic that Imerald had never known, magic that could change the outcome of the prophecy, or hedge it in favor of Ahriana.
Ahriana had spent their entire lives feeling over protective of the soft light that was her sister. Though she gave great joy, and easy smiles, Kynzi had this breakable air about her, like the slightest wind would shatter her into a million pieces. Her frame was so slight, easily bruised, and broken. Combined with her easily given love it worried Ahriana, endlessly.. Kynzi was the exact opposite of her in all ways. When her father named Kynzi as his daughter it was the best day of Ahriana's life up until that day. Soon it became clear that Kieven would use her as an extension of his own hand, sending her away for long periods. Into danger that Ahriana couldn't protect her from, and that had been her purpose for nearly twenty years. How could he separate them this way? She had raged many hours to Fairsh and he had never once disagreed with her arguments, but she did not fail to notice he had also not agreed.
Ahriana had exactly three friends, her anger was quick and her distaste made clear for this new assignment. She spent all her life protecting Kynzi; it was a constant desperate act for Ahriana. If she could simply protect Kynzi from pain, then maybe the world wasn't such a bad place. They were too different for the roles to ever reverse, the idea that tiny little Kynzi would ever protect Imerald was laughable. So of course it was the adopted daughter sent away, because Ahriana must protect all those inside the borders. Even though she seemed unblessed with the powers required. Kieven stubbornly refused to send her in place of Kynzi, even after she had compiled a long list of evidence showing just which of them was better suited for dangerous assignments like traveling to the nomads. Kieven stated it was precisely for these reasons Kynzi was better suited for diplomacy.
Ahriana knew she would never be like Kynzi, she would never see the world as Kynzi saw it. That would require her to forgive much that had happened, and be unaffected by the even worse that was to come. She could never reach out to others and find a compromise, she was not capable of hiding her emotions as they darted across her face. She had no talent with faking the tone of her voice to make someone more agreeable. Kynzi had a talent for all those things, she was the best choice to play diplomat to the finicky nomads. But with the announcement of her new role and scheduled trip those intent to drag the princess down began to plot. She would have one less voice on her side, and though she loved her father dearly, the truth of the matter was King Kieven was easily swayed by courtiers and Nira.
Some compared Ahriana to her father, how he had been, before he married Nira. The people loved him, and spoke of his prowess in battle with wonder and admiration. He did not mingle among them as he had done when he was her age, far too busy and weighed down with daily matters now. Once though he had fought at the sparring grounds, and shopped in the market,he had joined in the revelry at the festivals, and there were more than a few stories of him becoming drunk at the Tavern and Ahriana's grandmother having to drag him home. He had been just as likely to be seen drawing his sword on the battlefield as spinning a court lady on the ball room floor. He had held the pass against Demunik as the last living heir to the House of the Panther, and the throne of Imerald. He was a war hero and strategist; many spoke of his battles in hushed reverent tones, especially the last and longest for the fate of Imerald. His shadow was large, the mythology of him not wavering so far from the truth.
There were whispers spoken loud enough for Ahriana to easily hear, kind ones comparing the daughter to the father, but there were far more unkind ones. New whispers of her ability, her lack of power, her temperament. Whispers that had not begun to work their way through the court until after Kynzi had departed, but with great speed they flew all the way to Ahriana's ear.
Whispering softly in fear of the ferocious panther who walked beside the princess, Meekah would snarl and stare at those who dared speak the lies that crept through the less loyal mouths of Imerald. The most common rumor concerned Fairsh, and Ahriana, it had been circulating for years now. Meekah tried his best to squash such rumors but the older Ahriana became, the more difficult it grew, and it did not help that Fairsh had begun to look at her very differently, with eyes that all of Imerald could see held love and attraction. Most other rumors were easily quashed, except this one, it took off like wildfire and soon made its way to Nira, the last place it belonged.